We’re the opposite of adults, jumpin’ off the school bus,
candy for dinner, sneakers tied in loose knots.
Mom says “grow up,” we turn the beat up,
build a time machine outta cardboard and dreams.
Got chalk-stained knees, pockets full of moonlight,
tradin’ rent checks for rocket ships, blast past bedtime.
We’re the opposite of adults—never fold, never rust,
just laughin’ at the clock till the sunrise combusts.